First Person
by SuzakuSama
Summary: "Somewhere out there is her man, and all signs point to him wearing a fedora." Spoilers for events in 11/22 and 1/21, on certain conditions.


Notes: I had the female protagonist's route in mind while writing, simply because I only finished her story. This takes place before the events of 1/31, but still in the wintertime. Also bonus points to whoever knows what movie I'm referring to.

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><p>"<em>First Person<em>"

Chidori has nothing to do. Her sketchbook's missing. Odd. But after the explanation the orderlies have given-that she supposedly died- it would have been logical her possessions were given away. That is, if Chidori believe she died in the first place.

She would wake up to images still lingering in her mind-a sort of tunnel she's in. There's no light, but lately there is and she's walking towards it

There's still nothing to do except to watch the blank ceiling. She turns on the television instead. Of course there would be nothing of interest on-white noise, news, sports, some stupid game show, another stupid game show, nothing, a cooking show, a movie-foreign, she deduces, judging from the absence of Japanese actors.

In that particular scene, some boy masquerading as a knight is kissing a girl as the camera pans around them. Wait, she has seen this before-

It's the horribly dubbed version shown, the ones with guns for swords, but the characters still called them "swords". Chidori doesn't care for tragic love stories. Still...

"Guns...it all seems so familiar," she mutters to herself.

She looks to the right. Someone's nice enough to leave fresh flowers in the little vase on the table. She wonders who would have made such a gesture. Maybe that weird guy in the baseball cap. She's sure she has never seen him in her life. Days after, her senses still tingle when thinking of him. A familiar tingle.

He made such an impression on his first visit by crying his eyes out for some reason. Maybe he's the sensitive type. Hmm...but that doesn't hold up when she remembers his friends crying outside the room as well. She remembers a girl in pink and another girl with green hair being comforted by a brunette, all of them wearing the same uniform. At the time she made no mention of them, but she now finds it peculiar they are all friends.

Now the boy in the movie climbs up the wall to the girl's balcony, whispering romantic words with each other. She shuts off the television.

_Sigh._ Nothing to do once more.

She stares at the clock on the wall. Two thirty-five in the afternoon.

_Tick. Tick._

Two thirty-six.

It's a cloudy winter day, or what she could see out of her window. Drab.

The walls are white, unbelievably white and sterile and off, she thinks. Perhaps some color would help. Like a dot of red for contrast, a splash of red for an even bigger one. Then a splatter of crimson streaked along the walls, its trail beginning along the blade of a knife-_No! _ She sighs and steps back from the image, head spinning slightly.

She does not think about red for the next few minutes. Eventually it comes back to her, like a lingering ember. This time it's warm and inviting, exactly like a flame, not a gruesome ooze of blood-splattered walls and terror.

The flame becomes a light the more she stares at it, wondering if it's anything like the light in her dreams. 'Hmm,' she thinks as she focuses her gaze to the white ceiling.

At the light..is a smile, a sweet warm smile basking in the sun. Inviting her to come along. Now who does that smile belong to?

She closes her eyes, and imagines her journey so far. Sharp chin...maybe a stubble, she's not sure-definitely masculine features. Quite literally the man of her dreams. And what would the man of her dreams look like?

Her eyebrows furrowed, the mental pictures beginning to haze and blur over until the colors blended with each other-and all she has left is a vague swirl. She wants to know. She wants to see. She wants him to exist and be real and oh, sweep her away, or run off together. And simply be in each other's presence.

A knock on the door jolts Chidori out of her dream.

"Umm...hi. Remember me? I didn't know if you would mind me visiting you. I'm not a creep or anything...uh, here's some flowers I picked up."

It's him again, the boy in the baseball cap. He has interrupted her search for her ideal man. She refrains from sighing, as she thinks he means well, but isn't the most graceful at it.

"Thank you," she simply says. Chidori glances to the clock where it ticks two fifty-eight on the wall, then on his form as he places the flowers in the little vase next to her, replacing the old ones. Oh, so he's the culprit, leaving her with only his flowers and none of his company ever since she awakened.

"So...umm...how are you feeling?" He trails off, sitting down in the chair that has been pushed from the corner of the wall to about at the foot of the hospital bed.

"I'm fine. I didn't catch your name though."

"Name's Junpei Iori," His thumb's pointing at this chest, and the widest grin Chidori has ever seen hits her, and she cannot help but be reminded of her mystery man.

_I wonder if he's the rugged type, the ones wearing sunglasses like those American action movies they always play at Port Island station or maybe like the boy in the movie, a romantic man._

"It's nice to see you," He's still grinning. He has a bright smile, as if he hasn't been smiling throughout the chilly winter until spring blooms and he can't help but grin in excitement.

"Oh...you too." She says idly as her thoughts returns to her dreams. This Junpei Iori seems pleasant to have as company-the familiar warmth he radiates serves as a powerful reminder.

As he chats with her, Chidori sees _him_. Somewhere out there is her man, and all signs point to him wearing a fedora.

-FIN-


End file.
